


Dreaming of Dragons

by Balmyfables



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Characters of color, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Humor, Inspired by Dreams, Interracial Relationship, Interracial relationships, LGBT characters, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Warnings May Change, accidental dragon riding, dragon bard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-06-27 05:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15679149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balmyfables/pseuds/Balmyfables
Summary: Sparkling dragons were wheeling through the sunset sky, and I was flying among them.Well, sort of. Falling felt an awful lot like flying.--Lyles is studying abroad when he finds himself falling from the sky. A dragon swoops to his rescue, and the two find unexpected friendship...and more.





	1. Night Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyles is falling from the sky when a dragon swoops to his rescue. They then go to the dragon's cave and bond.

Sparkling dragons were wheeling through the sunset sky, and I was flying among them.

Well, sort of. Falling felt an awful lot like flying.

Adrenaline transformed the spike of fear into exuberant, reckless joy.  The wind ripped my cawing from my throat as I tumbled through the gilt clouds, and I succumbed to the morbid fascination of controlling the trajectory of my fall.

 _I am going to die, and this is the most spectacular way to do it,_ I thought.

One of the dragons cartwheeled out of formation towards me.  Its golden scales flashed brilliantly in the sun, and it folded its wings and dove after me.

The beast maneuvered beneath me, bringing its bulk close enough to touch.  It was massive-- as long as our Mother Tree was tall, and just as wide. It would take twenty people holding hand to hand to go around its girth.  I reached out to brush a hand against its metallic scales, which were surprisingly cool to the touch.

Then its wings opened--and I was flattened against its back.

Contrary to what I expected, the dragon’s scales were flexible beneath my cheek.  Instead of something similar to a steel shield, cold and unforgiving, the scales were a tough armor of flexible chitin with ribbing below.  The wind chilled them, but I felt warmth emanating from the crevices between. They sparkled like crystal.

Awe, joy, thankfulness expanded in my chest until it was nearly pain.  My eyes and my nose were streaming, and I sang out my joy in a prolonged, hoarse ululation.

The dragon turned its great head around to skewer me with a molten gold eye, and I swear the creature was grinning.  Its toothy smile was grotesque and churned my stomach. Then the monster tipped sideways and I lifted away from its back, and my heart was in my throat again.

I was falling, and the dragon fell with me.  We spiraled down through the clouds, and I occasionally rebounded off of its scaly hide.  I caught glimpses of the other dragons wheeling about, bright flashes in the evening sun, but this dragon, even while it cartwheeled and flirted with the other dragons, never abandoned me.  When I came too low, it dove below me to bear me up on its back. Then we’d lift up into the sky, and fall again.

And again.

And again.

Each time the creature caught me was exhilarating, each time it let me go terrifying.

The sun was settling into a nest of distant mountains, a spectacular show of apricot and gold.  My partner slid below me and bore me back up into the gilt clouds, and the other dragons spiraled off and disappeared into the gathering purple mists.  My dragon rumbled a contented chuckle, the bass note vibrating through its body and into me. The sun slipped behind the mountains, and a deep purple shadow enveloped the clouds.  I rode my savior away from the… flock? I do not know the word for a group of dragons. A majesty of dragons? A flight? A glory?

The bronzy creature carried me over mountains, across a vast river plain, and down into the foothills of another, gentler mountain ridge.  My eyes were too full of windblown tears to see detail in the ground, and the verdant trees and boulders moved by at a nauseating speed. I closed my eyes and held the scales tightly, counting the wing beats as we coursed over the hills.

We alighted.  I blinked, stomach roiling in the sudden stillness, then slid carefully down the creature’s side.  My feet touched ground, and I continued the downward motion into a bow.

Bowing was the intent.  Alas, my knees couldn’t hold me.  The adrenaline wore away, replaced by shaky exhaustion, and I slumped into a forehead-pressed-to-the-ground grovel.  I hoped it looked intentional.

“I thank you for your assistance,” I snivelled, holding my voice as steady as possible. “It was… I am... in your service.  ‘Till I may come to have repaid my debt.” That was customary when thanking a dragon, right? I had heard of maidens acting as dragon librarians, or cooks, or cleaners, to repay the debt of being saved from an unsavory marriage.  Some of the greatest elves in history had allied with dragons, and those alliances came when one rescued the other, be it from dragonslayers or from falling off great heights.

The dragon chuckled, and it was a deep, warm, melodious note.  A burning desire to look at its face filled me, but I maintained the bow.

“You elves do know your manners, that I can say with certainty,” the dragon rumbled in a deep basso voice.  I suddenly knew the dragon must be male, with a more primal and lusty response than I expected. He was also amused, which I hoped that was a good omen.  “However, I think a vow of servitude is an overblown response for such a simple ride, especially when I had such amusement. But, to each dragon his princess, I suppose.  If you do see a debt that you must repay, all I wish from you is company, for you pique my curiosity. That is a rarer event as I grow older and more jaded, so I owe you thanks.  Indeed, I intended to apologize to you, for playing a cat to your little mouse. If you wish to stay here with me for awhile, your company would be a welcome pleasure. But first, what I really want to know is: why was a groundling in the sky?”

I blinked.  The dragon was much more talkative than I expected, and his question caught me off guard and embarrassed me.  Flashes of an airship battle flashed through my mind’s eye. It was a memory of a fight I was failing. My stomach tightened in despair as I saw the pirate’s cannons rip into my yacht’s belly, and the unnatural roll as she bellied up and started falling.  So many people must have died.

“What’s this?” the dragon asked, deep voice suddenly quiet and concerned.  He extended a clawed paw, and I didn’t realize I was crying until his saber-sized talon gently touched my cheek.

“I am shamed and a failure,” I managed to say, my throat clinging to the words.

The dragon made a clucking sound at the back of his teeth and shook his head so that his great neck rocked back and forth, like a dog shaking his ruff.  “Come hither,” he said, and with a whispering sound lifted his great bulk and turned towards the cave.

Wiping my nose on my sleeve and taking a deep, hitching breath, I followed the dragon into his sanctuary.

A river flowed into the cave, filling three fourths of the mouth.  The dragon simply strode through the deep, azure waters, but I, being made of flimsier stuff, skirted across the mossy ledge on the side.   I pondered if perhaps this subterranean river led to the ocean. I remembered reading somewhere that metallic dragons enjoyed the ocean, that they swam and fed in the waters as comfortably as in the sky.  

We entered a large antechamber.  Lace-like moss and ferns hung from a crystal-laden ceiling.  Luminescent fungus radiated a soft light that set all of the gemstones in the wall a-glittering.  I heard fungi toads singing from the depths of the cave, unconcerned by our presence. This dragon must be a gentle creature if the shy amphibians felt comfortable in his presence.

“Here,” the dragon said, settling his bulk onto the moss that lined the river bank.  There was a slight depression in the stone, surrounded by a ridge of thicker moss. I wondered, was this was the dragon’s bed?

The dragon extended a claw towards me, inviting me in.

Again, my body responded with more lust than I thought entirely appropriate, and I wrestled it back.  Swallowing like a martyr, I stepped over the edge of the moss and strode to him. His shoulder was taller than my head.

“Gaze into my pool’s waters,” he commanded. “Tell me, what do you see?”

The river meandered through the cavern and into darkness, but nearby there was a semi-circle of raised crystals that slowed the river water and created a shallow pool.  Light from the crystals below emanated up through the water, and the light from the crystals in the ceiling above reflected off the water like a thousand stars. It was obvious that it was a gazing pool where one could divine magical sight, similar to star magic.  We elves were experts at sky gazing and divination.

I settled into a meditation fold, closing my eyes and focusing on my breath.

Something gentle brushed my side and there was a whispering movement.  I felt a thrill tingle through my body, a side effect of being close to magic.  I turned around and my gaze fell upon a dusky man lying where a dragon had once been.

He was watching me with dark eyes rimmed with darker lashes, relaxed and appreciative.  His long, well-muscled limbs were draped casually on the moss. Black hair large as a lion’s mane was pulled back from his face by beaded string.  He had a well groomed beard, and thick hair across his chest, down his belly, and curling at his loins. Crystals like the ones that adorned the caverns walls and ceiling glittered at his fingers, wrist, biceps, and throat, suspended on spider silk chains.  Other than these modest decorations, he was perfectly nude.

“I’m more comfortable in this form when I converse with small mortals.  Do you mind?”

I mutely shook my head, and remembered to close my mouth.

“What have you seen?” he inquired, his voice a deep, reassuring basso.

“Um…” I said intelligently, valiantly staring at his face.

The man chuckled and reached out with a large hand, motioning towards the pool.  “I have tried to set up a star-gazing pool in my cave, but perhaps it will not work for you.  I have never been able to divine anything from it; but it is a pretty thing. Soothing, especially when my nerves are rattled.  Divination is not a line of magic I specialize in, and this is only a flimsy facsimile of the night sky, after all. Perhaps it will not work, except to be aesthetically pleasing.”

“No, I think I could divine meaning from it,” I said, turning my eyes deliberately towards the water, trying to clear my head.  “I sense power there, and think the stones are well aligned for resonation.”

“Do you want to try again?”

“Yes,” I said resolutely, and I focused on settling my breathing, opening myself up to inspiration from the lights, and clasping my hands on my lap to hide any embarrassing evidence of my reaction to him.  Despite my best efforts to focus, I kept noticing the subtle warmth of his presence and the soft sounds of his breath.

Why would the dragon polymorph into an elf?  Why was he naked? Was this just something dragons did, and I had never read or heard of it?  Dragons never wore clothes in their natural forms, I guess it made sense they would eschew them even in elfin form.  Other races, like centaurs and minotaurs, also eschewed clothing, but they were much more bestial, not as refined and elegant as a dragon.  So, his nudity was not sexual… or was it? And, if it was, what did he want from me? Dragons toyed with quick mortals for enjoyment, and perhaps this was his playing, and I was a tool for his pleasure no matter my thoughts on the subject.

The moment had stretched awkwardly long.

“I am afraid you have quite distracted me,” I confessed quietly.

“Hah!  I’m sorry.”  He sounded more amused than apologetic.  “Would it help if I changed back to my dragon form?”

“Um.  I do not know.”

“Hmm.  Okay. Let us abandon this endeavor--we could always try again later, when you are not so close to a mortal incident.  There are things we could discuss that would entertain me. I am curious about you; how did you get to the sky, and why does the memory trouble you?”

“Airships,” I said, and again saw the flash of battle, the explosions of light and sound.

“I thought as much.  What trauma made you fall from your ship?”

“I owned the airship, though I was not her captain.  She went down-” my throat closed on my words. I swallowed, then continued- “and I should have gone with her, had the dragons not intervened.”  I blinked, realization dawning. “Did you see the battle?”

“No, I did not join the flight till all ships were gone from the sky.  The others did not tell me what they had seen, if they had noticed anything.  Airships are trivial when dragons gather for mating.”

I blanched.

“I suppose _that_ sort of talk will not help you focus.”  He seemed amused, and my blush deepened. I had tried to sit in a way that would hide my reaction-- had he seen?  I shifted again, self-consciously. “How about we distract you in a different way?”

“A-a-ah!” I called out in surprise when he ran his hand down the side of my hip, his other creeping up to my neck.  My spine arched and I half rose from the ground, bent like a bow. And what’s worse, my erection strained against my suddenly taut pants.

His hands left me and I collapsed to my knees, trembling.  “Oh, little one. I am sorry. I should have asked permission.”

He had seen.  He _knew_.  He knew my perversion, and he would kill me.  

No, he had saved me.  But surely this would revoke that?  What _did_ dragons think about deviants?  He didn’t sound angry-- he had even apologized.

 _This_ is why we elves spend so much time making sure we are never in debt, I inwardly berated myself.  It is so hard to get _out_ of debt.

“I forget what it is like,” the dragon man continued, speaking over my shaky breath.  “Forgive an old man his amusements and ignorance. I confess, I am out of practice at communicating with lesser mortals.  You feel things so strongly, and our power difference is monumental. It has been a long time since I was a whelp, worried about being squashed under a much bigger foot.  Aside from my promise that I mean you no harm, and that I will intentionally keep my bulk controlled and away from smashing you, what can I do to help you feel you more comfortable?  Shall I collect my instruments, give you a small concert? Would you like to stay here, tarry with me, or shall I carry you home somewhere?”

“I am in your debt, I have to settle it,” I replied, too quickly.  Anxiety at not fulfilling my debt clashed with my panic of my sexual perversion being discovered.  And the sudden terror of never seeing him again combined with raging lust meant I was losing control of my breath.

“Oh, little one, I don’t want you to suffer,” he said earnestly, his eyes concerned as they looked upon me.  “I don’t want you to fear me, nor to stay here out of terror. What can I do to help?”

Not being in his debt would help.

Getting fucked silly would help.

Could I be honest?

“Let’s start with introductions,” I murmured, swallowing my hope.

“A civil place to begin,” the dragon agreed.  “I’m surprised that I forgot to introduce myself; forgive my vulgar manners.  My name for lesser mortals is Llwellyn. I would tell you my real name, but it has entirely more growls and subtle intonations than this throat can handle.  Feel free to inquire when I’m in my true form. I am a 9th order Gold, and a patron of the musical arts. I am a bit of a diva, but we all must have our imperfections.”

I turned to stare at him incredulously, and was enraptured by the sight of his warm smile.  His grin was so infectious I felt a smile pull at my own mouth.

I never imagined to hear so much from a dragon, an elusive creature from a secretive species.  His name _and_ his title?  I didn’t know if he expected as much from me, a member of an equally secretive people.  And all I could think about was pressing my mouth against his, and how improbable that was, and nary a thought for properly calculating how much I should or should not say.

“Have you forgotten?  It’s your turn,” he said with amusement.

“I’m Lyles,” I breathed.

He smiled.  “Dear Lyles, I hope this does not make you uncomfortable again, but I would really like to kiss you.”

Excitement and terror and wonder warred within me.  He couldn’t share my perversion… could he? I dared not even hope it, but here he was, leaning over me, smiling warmly and asking for a kiss.  He did not look like he was teasing; so far, he had only been kind, sort of lonely, and desirous of conversation. And he was _naked._

“I would like that, too,” I murmured, and then closed the gap.

It had been quite a long time since I felt sparks when I kissed someone.  Llwellyn’s kiss lit me on fire.

Undignified as it sounds, I melted against him, every nerve singing with excitement.  Our lips pressed together, slipped sideways, and then I opened my mouth and planted my mouth more firmly on his.  I lifted my hands to hold on to his shoulders, for it felt like I might float away if I didn’t hold onto something.  I clung to him and we kissed as if we were feeding.

“Oh, youngling, I haven’t felt this alive-” Llwellyn breathed, pulling away from my clutching kiss-  “in years. Decades? Yes, probably decades.”

“Has life become such a bore?” I asked, before I could worry if it was impertinent.

“You, too, shall see, after you have lived for decades,” was his gentle reply.  “After centuries, there are few fruits as decadent as you left to enjoy.”

His compliment thrilled me, much more than I was prepared for.  I leaned forward to kiss him again, but he was looking down at my erection, which was straining painfully against my now-too-tight pants.  Fear gripped me once again, but of a different sort-- an electrical, zinging sort of apprehension. Slowly his face dropped tantalizingly towards my groin.  He shooed my flustered hands away, and carefully touched my belt, “accidentally” brushing my strained erection.

I gasped.

He grinned up at me, his sparkling eyes teasing and intentional.  “Is this okay?”

“I don’t know, Llwellyn,” I breathed, tasting his name on my tongue, cherishing the warm glance it earned me.  I couldn’t believe it. Here he was, a man from my dreams, his hands roving my thighs and leaving me twitching.

“I mean, is it okay if I touch you?  I imagine you are feeling vulnerable, hm?” he murmured.  

“Oh.  Yes. No.  Slightly. I mean, do what you wish,” I babbled.  

He slid my belt out of its clasp, unbuttoned the top button of my trousers, and leaned down to kiss my abdomen.  It set my muscles to twitching, though I tried hard not to move. I had an irrational fear that if Llwellyn saw a spasmodic tremble he would stop.  “It has been a long time since I felt vulnerable…” he mused.

“Those situations are quite dire, I’m sure,” I breathed, trying not to gasp at the feeling of his mouth moving against my hip bone.

“Mm. Usually,” he said. “But I bet **you** could, if I stopped playing you like a fiddle.”

He sat up.

I whimpered and reached for him.  It was hardly more dignified than if I had pleaded “No, don’t go,” which echoed through my head.

He chuckled, looked at me fondly, and waited.

He wanted _me_ to take charge, but I didn’t know where to start.  I’d always wanted this, but I had barely let myself even daydream of it.  All I knew were scandalous whispers from men I was not allowed to talk to, and now I had a man twice my size kneeling before me, with a massive, half-hard cock staring up at me.

“What do you want?” I asked.  I don’t think I meant it coyly.  I felt bewildered, chewing my lip like the typical blushing maid.  But it affected him marvelously. His manhood lifted before me, his lips parted with a small breath, his eyes lidded.

“No,” he moaned, lightly.  “What I want is to switch these roles.  I want _you_ to be dominant, Lyles.  Show me what you are made of.  Make me feel smaller. Make me feel equal, not always feared and respected.  Otherwise… otherwise, I’m afraid I might hurt you. I want you to lead. You can do it.  You are _radiant_. Do what you want with me.”

“Um…”

“What do _you_ want to do?” he continued, going from kneeling before me to laying down before me, stretching luxuriously.

I surveyed him.  “You… are not of the stuff I usually engage in dalliances,” I said, stalling.

“Ah.  Of course.  I should have thought of that,” he said, sheepishly.  “I bet you are a fantastic seducer on your own terms.”

I blushed, and lifted one shoulder in a shrug.  “Depends on your standards, I guess. I have had a strong hand in courtly games.  But… this is not a court, you are not a courtier. If we are going to do this my way, I would build connection, flirt and parry coy words, deepen a warmth.  I… well, you are not like any creature I have seen before, so I am on uncertain footing.”

I felt like I was a representative of the elven race, and… failing. Babbling… But it got him to laugh, which was good.  Right?

He stretched his limbs with a subtle groan, offering himself for inspection.  “Well stated. I, too, would like to savor this treat.”

I lifted his hand in mine, feeling greatly unsettled. “After this, I want to kiss you again,” I said.  He nodded and smiled, and I pulled his hand into my lap and massaged his digits. It was a skill I found relaxed anyone; and was not so intimate as to cloud my thoughts.  He sighed appreciatively, and closed his eyes to let me work. While I rubbed at the knotted muscles beside his thumb, I tussled out my thoughts.

First, he was obviously turned on by my submission, even if he _said_ he wanted me to take charge.  I felt a discordant note there-- not something dangerous, per se, but something to keep in mind.  And had he his way, we would be well into our love making, though he had paused to garner consent.  He was not a slattern nor rapist, but he was certainly captivated by “lesser mortals”-- did he mean it in the derogatory way I heard it?-- and I was certain I was not his first play-thing.  I moved to massage his wrist, gently; he carried a lot of tension, even in this polymorphed body.

Second, he had accepted my attraction as if it were natural, and desired-- not a loathsome perversion.  It was impossible; it was joyous; it was something I hardly let myself believe. But here he was, naked before me; and I did not want to lose this opportunity.  With that newfound confidence, I moved upwards, massaging the corded muscles in his forearms.

Third, I didn’t know who he was (well, he had given me his name and title, but that meant very little to me at the moment), and I was getting myself entangled with him.  That could be a very bad thing, or… a very good thing. His biceps slid under my hands, tantalizing. I knew at least the court girl’s reputations, but this man, and the dangerous unknown he represented, was a thousand times more alluring, perhaps because of the mystery and danger.

Fourth, he was gorgeous.  He had chosen a body that was thick and heavily muscled, with pectorals, biceps, and deltoids that bulged beautifully, and sculpted abs that rippled down to his massive manhood.  I had never seen a man so beautiful. The girls had been lovely, yes, but… _cold_ was not the right word, but they hadn’t moved me.  They hadn’t filled me with a longing I could hardly contain, let alone bear.  They had been something to accomplish. This man filled me with a desire so strong I thought my heart, or my groin, might burst.

So, what _did_ I want to do?  What did queer men do in secret?  How did making love to a woman differ from making love to a man?  How could I possibly house his manhood without injury?

I wanted to kiss him.

I wanted to touch him, rub my whole body up along his.

Instead, I reached out and pushed my fingers into the hair on his chest, above his lower ribs.  

His eyes opened, and I could feel them on me, curious. “I had forgotten how comfortable going slow could be,” he confessed.

I grinned, and then worried I looked dopy. And, while what he said about going slow may have been true, I realized I had been stalling.  I was afraid of starting something I had never practiced-- which was _not_ what I was normally like. I had insulted my own adventurous pride.  I had a penis. I had received head. And I had given cunnilingus that had earned me a highly favorable reputation with the court girls.  A small elfin clit was not _that_ much different from a massive, throbbing, dragon cock... right?

 _Right_ _,_ I cheered myself on.   _Enough stalling.  Stare that big cock down, and go for it._

I slid my hands down his belly and lifted his member.  It was hot to the touch, thick and meaty in my hands, half-hard.  I opened my mouth, and let a warm breath tickle and tantalize. He reacted the same way the elven women did in anticipation of touch-- with a sharp intake of breath and his body twitching beneath me.  I carefully fitted my mouth over the head, and immediately lost my confidence again. There was a _lot_ of ground to cover-- he was huge!  My jaw was nearly fully extended and still my mouth barely fit around him.

“Yeah, don’t try it,” he said.  Had he been reading my mind? I opened my eyes and saw him looking down at me; though at least his eyes were hooded and he looked pleasured.  “Don’t disconnect your jaw for me, darling. Go slow. More hands, more tongue, it will be fine.”

I nodded, his cock bobbing with me.  I shifted to lap my tongue down his shaft, and slid a hand up to his balls, which he seemed to enjoy.  When he felt fully hard, I lifted both hands to grip him and moved in time with my mouth, tongue lathing the tip.  He released a long, pleasured moan; the kind someone makes when they finally get what they were yearning for.

I felt his hand hit my thigh and flop around searchingly.  “Come closer,” he begged.

Careful to not break my rhythm, I scooted closer.  

He deftly undid my trousers and fisted my cock.  The desire and exhilaration I had felt during our kiss came pounding back, overwhelming the sense of duty I had been working on.  He rolled onto his side, and then his mouth was on me while mine was on him.

It was extremely hard to concentrate.  Pleasure rolled through me so powerfully I could see color with it, all golden sparkles and pink light.  He could fit a whole lot more of me in than I could him. While I tried hard to keep my ministrations smooth and skillful, I was failing.  But, I think he liked it anyway.

* * *

I woke with a start, my erection throbbing to the point of pain.  With an angry groan, I yanked my blankets over my head and curled on my side.

“Right,” I growled, disgusted both with the inopportune wakening and my dream-mind’s elevation of my status. “Like I deserve a dragon lover.”

I had never, in my life, had a dream that realistic.

After I got over my initial frustration of waking, I lay in bed lightly touching myself while I tried to recapture the dream.  I was irrationally afraid of forgetting a single perfect detail. Dreams are one of the most blessed gifts of the gods, and I was determined to relive this one.

As the dream world slipped further away, I felt resentment resurge.  Why couldn’t I have orgasmed in my dream? Why did I have to wake alone, in a solitary dorm room where no huge dusky dragon man had ever set foot?  Why did I not even have anyone with whom I could work out this sexual frustration? The world was unjust.

And, with that dismal attitude, I came.  It was the most unsatisfying orgasm I had had in my life, and I stomped to the bathrooms for a cold shower.  But there was a jaunty bounce in my step as I headed to class, and even the grumpy werecat Catlynn noted the new brightness of my smile.  

The sparkle was back, and Llwellyn shimmered behind my eyes whenever my mind drifted.

That night, after I had snuggled into my bed, the dream came flooding back as real as a waking memory.  My member hardened obediently at the thought of Llwellyn, and as my hand dallied I debated briefly about whether or not I should.  Would masturbating before I slept lessen my likelihood of having another erotic dream?

However, my erection was fervent in its demanding, and I fell to sleep in a happy afterglow.  I slept deeply and soundly, and dreamt not a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started as a dream about my campaign. And then it... expanded.


	2. Dragon Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyles discovers why Llwellyn called himself a diva.

At first, the dream brought brightness back to my life.  

But as weeks passed and I did not have any more dreams, I began to doubt the likelihood of a repeat experience.  My heart yearned to meet Llwellyn again, and I explored every permutation of my dream while conscious. I was just beginning backslide into the stale doldrums of routine life when the storyline returned.

Moments after my head hit the pillows, I was tumbling through gilt clouds.

“Yeeee-haaaaw!” I screeched.  I was plummeting towards the ground in deadly freefall, and I pumped my fists in exaltation.

I heard a deep basso singing, reminiscent of monks and priests chanting at the monastery.  It seemed to effervesce from the very clouds.

“You’re back,” a rumbling baritone filled the air.  Llwellyn’s powerful wings threshed the clouds, and he dove beside me.  “I need to train you not to fall from high places. There are less death-threatening ways to get my attention,” he chided, sliding under me and bearing me upon his back.

I hugged his scales, the tears streaming freely.  He didn’t break his descent, and when he touched down I recognized the mouth to his cave.

I slid bonelessly from his back-- apparently the fall had spiked enough adrenaline to impair my control over my limbs-- and Llwellyn caught me before I hit the ground.  I dangled from his claws like a mannequin with cut strings.

“You are a mess,” he commented, surveying my tear-and-snot streaked face.  

A smile stretched my lips as I hung there, and I made the effort to lift my head and meet his eyes. His pupil was as big as my head. “I missed you,” I croaked.

His brows lifted, and he said, “Huh.”  Then he got my feet under me, and helped me stumble into the cave.

We settled onto his moss bed.  Llwellyn waited while I splashed water on my face.  After I had sufficiently scrubbed, I turned to my draconic saviour and felt a frisson of surprise.  While my head had been under water he had changed his body into my dusky lover, and my heart went a-flutter at the sight.  “You are extraordinarily beautiful,” I murmured.

“You know this body is only a shell.  It’s not honest, not like your form.”

“I know your true form, and it is just as spectacular,” I countered.

That seemed to please him.

I turned from the pool and clambered over the mossy berm of his nest.  My shirt was unbuttoned, hanging wetly open. 

If this dragon man was anything like the elven maids who swooned over me, he might enjoy a show.  I shifted a bit, pretending to adjust my seating, and the shirt slid off my shoulder.

His intake of breath gave him away.  I glanced at him coyly, and his attention was not on my face.

I was going to enjoy this.

I gave him a nice, slow strip tease, and let him take in the lean muscles I carefully maintained.  Raising my arms to bare my midriff, I stripped my shirt. I knew the effect of flexing my arms, how it rippled down through my lats and abs, and his eyes hungrily ate up every bit of it.

I undid my pants, teasingly slow.

And, instead of saying anything remotely sexy, the dragon man said, “You’re so  _ green _ .”

Indignantly I thought, _ did he think with skin like mine I would have a brown cock _ ?

Well.  I could match statements-of-the-obvious.  “And you are hung like a horse,” I said, eying his stallion-sized penis.  “Are you intentionally so large? To scare your enemies?” 

He chuckled.  “No. This is not so intentional, though the thought is funny.  However, the truth is some dragons are masters of disguise and shapes, and I am not.”

“So…?”

“So this is how my human form naturally came out,” he said, motioning towards himself.  I startled, realising his form  _ was _ human, not elf.  I had assumed he was the same race as me, and not even noticed he had small, curved ears.  Of course, his ears were partially hidden by his hair, but I felt guilty for assuming. “I have tried to change it.  There are times, when one wants to be sneaky, that it would be beneficial to look like the people who you are interacting with.  I have tried damned hard to be an elf, or a hobbit, or have different skin. But, well, this is it.” He held his arms out in resignation.

“Hmph,” I said, feigning being unimpressed to hide my surprise.  What did it matter if his transforming abilities were sub-par? He  _ could _ transform, and that was miraculous.  If he had any wounded pride, I intended to make him forget.  

“Suck me,” I dared, rising to my knees before him and hoping I wasn't getting myself in trouble, hoping this tired ancient creature was being honest when he said he wanted someone else to be dominant.

His eyes flicked up towards mine for a moment, unreadable, then lowered to my groin as he shifted to his knees.  Exhilaration flooded me as he actually leaned towards me. Then-  _ ah _ !- his mouth was on me, soft, wet, and fabulous.

My knees went weak.  I released my pants, which slapped wetly around my thighs, and he grabbed them and slid them down to my knees.  My cock, which had been peeking out from my trousers and was now finally free, swung out and hit him on the chin, but he just grinned and sucked it in.  The feeling of his tongue and soft palate overwhelmed me. He was  _ excellent _ .  Was it a flaw that I again compared him to the court ladies, with him in heavy favor?  I was in the midst of discovering that intimate touch is so much more enjoyable when one’s partner is thoroughly arousing, with no small amount of retroactive dismay that it had taken me so long to discover this.

I dug my hands into his hair and clenched my fingers to fists, fighting back an ejaculation that was years premature.

“Stop,” I said, using my command voice and pulling Llwellyn’s face from me before I came too soon.  His mouth came away with a pop, and he looked up at me, concerned and confused. I dropped to sit on my ankles before him, so our faces were at the same height.

Or nearly.  He was a bigger man than me, in many ways.

“Lay back,” I murmured, leaning towards him and pressing my hand into the soft carpeting of hair on his chest. 

He obliged, seemingly delighted at my orders, and I turned my attention to his nethers.

I couldn’t help but feel a new wave of intimidation seeing he was nearly the length and girth of my forearm.  I never was one for comparing cock lengths in the dressing room, but this… well, inhuman was the correct term.  It was draconic, otherworldly, and  _ mine. _

The skin of his genitals was several shades darker than his rich brown skin--indeed, his cock was nearly a charcoal black, which furthered the likeness to a stallion.  His foreskin only half covered his enlarged, ruby head, and as I lifted his cock, his stones slid across his upper thigh enticingly.

He moaned beautifully as I sucked a testicle between my lips, and his tower hardened against my cheek.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you did not say anything more than your name during our introductions,” Llwellyn murmured.

I let him slide out of my mouth.  “Are you  _ trying _ to stop my attentions?”

“What?  Oh. No, not particularly,” he said.  “I just really want to talk, too. Can’t we do both?”

“And I had to slow  _ you  _ down yesterday,” I murmured with a huff.  “Well,  _ I  _ can’t talk if my mouth is filled with that massive machine,” I said, pointing.  “But, since we’re already talking… I hope you’ll forgive an elf, but my title could be used against me.  Especially now that you know my sexual proclivities.”

“You elves are so prudish,” he said ruefully.

I straightened, allowing myself to glare.  “I hope you are not calling  _ me _ prudish, sir.”  I eyed his parts meaningfully.

He chuckled at that.  “Not you, dazzling Lyles, no.  But your people could stand to lighten up, I think.”

That took the wind from my sails.  I nodded, feeling the familiar stab of guilt.

“You are so captivating,” he said warmly, and I glanced up, wondering what he was talking about.  “Just now, you were feeling something,” Llwellyn explained. “I could see it in your face. Regret, perhaps?  I don’t know what all of your expressions mean. Not yet, at least-- I intend to learn them all. It impresses me that you  _ have _ so many emotions, so quickly.  I only have two emotions, compared to your dozens.”

“What two may those be?” I asked, deciding to entertain him.

“Pleased and not pleased,” he replied with a grin.

I allowed a smile to creep into my face. “Then you must be pleased now, for I am certain I would know if you were displeased.”

“Certainly,” he agreed, sliding towards me.

“But--” I turned towards his relaxing penis-- “are you going to keep trying to start discussions with me while my mouth is occupied?”

He laughed.  “I can try to contain myself.  Forgive an old dragon for being excited to talk to someone.”

“I believe I will be able to think better once I’m not addled by desire.”

“Mmm. That is reasonable.  Shall I help relieve your load?”

His seduction was blunt, uncouth, and perfect.  My rod was resplendently firm in the space of two heartbeats, and my whole body twitched at his touch.

“Yes. This is what we shall do. Be a dear, tell me your favorite things as I suck you,” he said, his lips moving against my cock in the most tantalizing way.  Who knew you could talk  _ and  _ give head? “That is my compromise.  I want to hear your voice. Talk for as long as you can.”

“I, ah-” My voice hitched on a wave of pleasure caused by his warm, sweet lips.  “O-Okay. I love learning. I like watching people, and noticing-- so few people take the time to observe.  I, aah, I explored the woods, stay-stayed out for weeks watching fungi grow. I consumed-”

He sucked me deeply (and I don’t think his timing was merely consequence) and chuckled as I gasped.  The vibrations of his basso voice through my member made my knees week. “Oh, gods, that is good.”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, and I nearly died.  “Keep talking,” he mumbled.

“Llwellyn, gods, I read so much,” I said, frantic for him to resume his ministrations.  He did, and I let my head fall back. “Books, books, so many books. The library- read them all- fuck- fucked Gryselle under the stacks- oh- oh-”

Llewellyn began full on singing a bass note into my groin, his tongue pressing the head of my cock to the roof of his mouth where I felt his soft palate reverberate with sound.  “Oh, I am on fire, Llwellyn- I would suck Gryselle as she tried to read- oh, how she’d scream- I’m coming- gods, I’m coming! Here it is!”

My seed sprung from me and my body fell into contortions, the orgasm ripping through me.  Llwellyn’s arms enveloped me, and I lay curled in his arms as lights flashed in my vision and my soul tried to squeeze its way out of my crotch.

“There,” he crooned, his voice still a song. “That was much better than last time.”

“Last time?” I asked blearily.

“Yes, when you didn't quite come,” he replied.  “You deserted me. Now you have bejeweled me.”

I managed to focus my eyes and saw my milky seed spangled across his chin and shoulders, droplets stuck to his beard and chest hair.  It was a beautiful adornment-- surprisingly well matched to the small stones he wore on string. And he looked so comfortable in it.

“So, you like to read while fucking,” he commented, curious. “I would like to try that.  See how long you can keep reading.”

“I am your book, you can read me dry,” I said, flopping a relaxed hand up to rub his cheek.  I flushed when I realized what I had said, and he grinned at my embarrassment. “I mean, I can bring a favorite book along next time-”

“Don't worry, little one,” he said, snuggling me into his hairy chest.  “I will be happy to see you, no matter the setting. Tell me, besides the library, where do you like to be?”

“I love forests, like any elf,” I intoned, snuggling closer, and ran a finger over the hairs that curled below his navel.

“Do you like music?”

“Of course,” I replied. His member twitched, and he slid his hand over himself.  “Ancient chants are my favorites,” I continued, and watched his fervour strengthen with fascination.  “The dramas of ancient hero-queens, like Seressa the Earth Singer, or Therlan and his dragon-”

Llwellyn’s head dropped back against the moss and he hummed the refrain from Therlan.

“I didn’t know dragons knew that tune,” I commented, lifting away from his side slightly to gaze at him with curiosity.

“Of course.  Our peoples wrote it together,” he replied.

Excitement thrilled through me. “Do you know if Therlan and his dragon actually existed?”

“That dragon had a name-- Belovere-- and, yes, our scholars think she and Therlan existed, though the tales of their deeds have been overblown, and the achievements of other, lesser known partners attributed to them.”

“So… dragons can love us quick-lived mortals?”

He lifted his head and met my eyes.  “Of course.”

The moment stretched awkwardly, his gaze made me squirm, and I hastened to revive our conversation.  “As a child, I loved the reels and spins, like the Charter Blessly.” Llwellyn’s eyes closed thoughtfully, and his humming shifted to the complicated little round elven children sing.  I joined him on counterpoint, running my hands down his sides. His eyes flew open and he stared at me.

“Please, please, sing with me, Lyles, and put a finger in me,” he begged, lifting his leg and presenting me with his sack and his anus. His magnificent meaty penis was at full extension against his belly, pressed against his abdomen by his big hand. I leaned over the mossy berm to dip my hand in the river, then ran a fingertip around his entrance. He gasped.

“Do you know of the Challeigh?” I breathed, stroking his manhood slowly as I ran my fingers in small circles.

“Yes,” he whispered.

I wordlessly sang the intro to one of the fertility chants while bringing a finger gently into him.  His eyes widened; and I honestly cannot say if it was because of the conversation about music or what my hand was doing.  “I once attended a full court fertility chant, complete with priests fainting from visions.”

He sang the melody of the fertilization rites with me, his member trembling under our diligent treatment, the tip frothy.  He rode my hand, rocking his hips against my finger until my digit ached with the push and pull. His singing came as breathy pants, and I chanted the callbacks encouragingly while he worked himself into a fervour.

When the crisis was upon him he called out in a baritone crescendo that echoed through the cave.  He rocked back and forth, the seed splattering across my arm and cheek in copious gouts. 

“Oh, what I would give to see a Challeigh,” he moaned, pressing his face into my shoulder and trembling.  “Thank you. Thank you, Lyles. That was magnificent.”

“Thank you for singing,” I murmured back.

He chuckled into my shoulder.  “That was… ah, I wish I could have given you a better performance.”

“Better than holding my draconic lover in a golden glow, surrounded by a magical star-spangled cave?”  I chided, sweeping my arm in a grand gesture. “Your witticisms are darling, Wings-of-my-Heart.”

“I can, and  _ will, _ show you better,” he vowed.

I wrapped my arms around him in a smothering embrace, at the same time a familiar pulling behind my navel tugged at me.  

It was the same sensation as when I was summoned.

“Wha-?” I started, dumbfounded, and sat up in a flustered tangle of sheets, my pillow squeezed to lumps beneath my arms.  “Llwellyn?” I asked, blinking in bewilderment at my dark room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. <3
> 
> I will be updating approximately every other week. I've got a good buffer, and the slower pace allows me to write my other fics as well.


	3. Dragon Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyles struggles with a distinct lack of dragons in his waking life.  
> But in his dreams, things really take off.

The day dragged on and on.  

I could not concentrate.  Images of Llwellyn, naked and beautiful, stretched before my eyes and covered the pages I was trying to study.

In the library during my study period, it got so bad I tossed my books into my bag and carried them in front of my hips, hoping no-one noticed the raging hard on I was trying to hide.  I hurried to the restroom.

Then I tried very hard not to be heard.

A few minutes later, I slumped back into a study desk.  I opened my book, and passed my eyes over two whole pages before I realized I couldn’t remember anything I had just looked at.  Images of free-falling through golden clouds and Llwellyn’s lips on my dick while he sang kept creeping back into my head, and I was getting hard again.

_ Again. _

“I love you, but enough is enough.  You are destroying my life,” I grumbled to day-dream Llwellyn, and slid back into the bathroom.

When I finished, I knew I was too hassled to study.  I was worried that I’d start day-dreaming again, and that seemed only to lead to one thing.  I decided to take a run through the woods. There, I could be as honry as I wanted without anyone noticing, and physical exertion was much more possible than concentration in this state.

I climbed the wall in my usual spot, tucking my book bag carefully into the niche between the border wall and Arson Hall.  I spent an hour climbing trees and running up hills. While doing chin-ups from a high branch, I wondered where my imagination had found Llwellyn.  I had never seen a dragon, only a few wretched swamp drakes that had wandered into a nearby village that my father had been called in to relocate. They hadn’t looked anything like the golden beauty of Llwellyn and his flight.  I had read draconic poetry in primary school, but it had bored me to tears. Literally. My mother had picked me up from school crying. I’d never much cared for memorizing draconian symbols and translating rhyme schemes. I knew that there were golden dragons, and that they conversed with the royal family, but all I had ever seen of them were abstract insignias-- they considered it uncouth to create a realistic depiction of them.  We're my imaginings a remotely accurate depiction? Dragons sure were snobbish, I thought. And Llwellyn had called  _ me _ prudish.

I started day-dreaming about sex with a dragon-man again, and took off running.  Every time an image of a dark-skinned body popped up in my head, I pushed myself harder.  Concentrating on dodging tree trunks and jumping boulders filled my mind, and I kept Llwellyn at bay.

I looked up and realized it was late afternoon.  Hours had passed, and it was time for class-- if I wasn’t already late.  

Starving and exhausted to the point of tremors, I dragged myself to Fenji’s class about rogues.  My legs were shaking as I tried to run up the stairs, and my breath was fast and shallow. I hadn’t exercised that intensely for years, not since I left home.

I arrived at the lecture hall only a minute or two before Fenji-- so I wasn’t late, and I wasn’t noticed.  I discreetly slid into a seat at the back of the hall.

I could not concentrate during during Hiding and Sneaking class.  Instead, Professor Fenji’s contortions during demonstrations of escaping from various cages and ropes were easy fodder for my pesky and tantalizing daydreams.  To stave off yet another erection (and I was grumpy and irritable, not to mention quite sore by now), I resorted to thinking about my mother’s enraged farewell speech.

“What?!” had been her response, when I finally answered her question of whom I found attractive honestly.  “That is abominable! To  _ think _ … you find  _ him _ attractive… repugnant!”  Her shrill words cut through me.  “Banish those thoughts at once, Lysettel!  Don’t say such a thing. No son of mine will bring shame to this family!  I will not have such an  _ objectionable  _ reputation stain to the Nightglows.  No! No, you need to go away. Some student exchange in a distant foreign land, too far for holiday visits and full of oddities to keep your curious nature entertained.  And, Lysettel, you will not be permitted back until you have…  _ cleansed _ … these repulsive thoughts.”

Dear mother.  She became so eloquent when outraged.

But, my strategy worked.  I wasn’t horny; I was depressed.

I don’t know which was worse, struggling with wet-daydreams or struggling with morose memories.  I couldn’t sneak out of class now without being noticed. I didn’t know anybody in this class to talk to-- and I would get in trouble for whispering anyway.  So I sat there, slumped in my seat and drawing spirals in my notebook, recalling what had led up to the altercation and my following ostracization.

“What are wrong with the Goldenfeather girls?” she had asked at first, sadly.  Then the same thing with the next set of girls, and the next...

 It had started with disappointment, and camaraderie.  She might not have been on my side-- she couldn’t be, if she understood my side-- but she had comforted me and tried to fix things.  She had created a parade of girls to capture my attention. She spent a small fortune on parties, and each time I failed her.

Eventually, all she would say is, “What is wrong with  _ you _ ?  Why are you so--so--prudish? So captious?”  Over and over again, with increasing eloquence.

Had it been cruel of me to refute all of her hard work?  I  _ had _ asked for it, at first; I had thought I just had to find The One.

I had spent a lot of time trying to find The One.

I realized I was gripping my pencil too hard when it snapped.  An incredibly loud snap it was, too. All the heads in the classroom turned towards me.

“Umm…” I said, blushing.

“Do you have something to add, Lyles?” Fenji asked.  He was genuinely curious-- I generally did have something thoughtful to add to his discussions.  I felt awful.

His eyes flicked between the broken pencil in my hand and my face.  

_ Please, gods, don’t ask me what’s wrong. _

“Do you need to sharpen your pencil?” he asked.  Dumbly, I nodded. I heard students whispering and giggling around me as I bent down and grabbed my pocket knife, and headed towards the trash bin to sharpen a new point.

I had no clue what Fenji had been discussing when I had broken my pencil, so I didn’t know what appeared to have troubled me so much.  The whole class had been about guard schedules and slipping out of various types of knots, I think, but I was still too distracted to pay much attention.  Images of my mother, marriageable noblewomen, and Llwellyn flew around my head, and it caused a severely confusing mess of conflicting emotions.

When class was finished, I was glad I didn’t know anyone, because no one approached me to ask what was wrong.  If Catlynn or Eileigh had been there, I wouldn’t have gotten out unquestioned. As it was, I managed to escape before Fenji finished answering other students’ questions and turned to question me.  I could feel his eyes following me as I hurried out the door and down the hall.

I wanted to talk with a friend.  To spill my heart out, and tell every dirty detail.

Catlynn?

No. She had her new beautiful girlfriend, and I didn’t think I could stand being around a happy couple.  NOR did I really want to be around around Cynthia. That creature turned me on, and I did not need the confusion of finally being attracted to a woman, an  _ uneligible  _ woman, after so many years of trying and failing.  That half nymph was a hazard. And I didn’t need more things turning me on, period, not right after I had found such a powerfully errotic dream creature.

I went to my room and threw myself onto my bed face-down.

And started to squirm, rocking my hips into the mattress.  The pressure felt good. The image of a brown face grinning up at me appeared before my eyes.

“Gods! Leave me alone,” I growled, sitting up and snatching an apple viciously from my shelf.  I devoured it, the poor helpless thing, and went hunting for more food.

Thus my days unfolded, confusing, frustrating, spent half in consciousness and half in daydreams that were as demanding as my erections.  

It was a full week before I was falling through golden clouds again, Llwellyn’s form sparkling before me.

“Llwellyn!” I shrieked in startelement. 

“Hello,” he chuckled, maneuvering below me.  “Nice to see you, too.”

I laughed maniacally as he lifted me up, strong wings eating up the distance.  

“So… you like flying?” Llwellyn’s basso vibrated through me.

“Yes. Of course,” I replied.

“Good.” We were so high that my breath was short and I was shivering, he stilled his wings, our ascent stalling, and we floated for a dazzling moment in the sunset clouds before we both started to fall.

Llwellyn shifted to a man.  It was the first time for me to see him transform--he had always shifted when I was not looking-- and the spell was a dizzying swirl of visible magic.  Dragon form dissolved into a cloud of iridescent shimmering, and that glittering amorphous form condensed down into a human form tumbling through the sky.  He paddled through the air towards me, caught my hand, and pulled me into his strong embrace.

We kissed as the wind whipped past us, pulling at our hair.  He lifted me away and physically maneuvered me so that my groin was at his face.  Then he unfastened my clothes and pulled my soft member between his lips.

“Ahh--” I cried, gripping his hair.

I was throbbing and shuddering with desire when he pulled away and looked towards the ground.  The hills were frighteningly close, close enough to see each tree and boulder. He pushed me up and away, and then transformed to a dragon.  I pressed into his back when he opened his wings, and we shot past the peak and soared out over the valley. He clapped his wings and lifted us into the sky.

“At least one of us has to pay attention to the ground,” he murmured, his voice rattling through me as I clung desperately to his back.

“I-I will t-t-try,” I chattered, shaking with terror and elation.  “Y-y-you aren’t helping.”

“Do you want to dive again, little one, or go back home to continue our dalliance?”  He craned his head around to skewer me with an eye.

My hard on pressed painfully into his scales.

“Dive,” I said, wondering if I had finally gone insane.

A wicked grin split his reptilian face, and he folded his wings, rolling beneath me so that he could hold me in his massive paws.  We hung, suspended, and then he tilted his head back and began the dive, shifting into a man as he arched back. We held hands through the process, and I felt as if lightning were dancing up my body from where our hands connected.  The magic crackled and fizzed, leaving my hair wild with static electricity. When he was fully changed, he opened his eyes and grinned at me, pulling me into an embrace.

“Push in,” he said into my ear.  The wind threatened to pull his voice away.

“What?” I asked.

He looked at me, then winked and dipped backwards, opening his legs to cross his ankles behind me.  My manhood pointed straight at his plump ass.

My heart pounded in my throat, and I swallowed.  Gripping his hips, I pulled him towards me, and tried to skewer him-- but his defenses were strong and my lance rebounded.

“I think we should try this on the ground!” I cried.

He tilted his head back towards me, eyes searching.  Evidently plummeting towards mountains was not as curious to him as a lover who wasn’t shoving into his arse.  Anxiety was softening my erection. Was I engaging in too much, grappling with a dragon lover?

He repositioned and grabbed both our cocks in one massive hand, strangling their throats in his firm grip.  His frothing tip wetted both of us, and I cried out in sudden pleasure when he started moving. My prick stiffened instantly under his ministrations.

“Keep touching yourself,” he commanded, releasing us and shifting his grip around my arms.  He transformed, and I was held in his paws, my hand furiously pumping my dick while his wings beat the air.

We reached the apex of his climb and he released me, floated under, and changed into a human.  His hands snagged my shoulders as we began to fall, and he pushed me to his back.

“Try,” he commanded as gravity reclaimed her hold.

Prepped as I was by his hand and maintained by mine, I was ready to try again.  He squirmed and shimmied closer, and my head pierced him. I grasped his hips and slowly pulled him onto me.  We both moaned, his small circle opening and accepting me greedily into the tight crevice. He was hot, and squeezed so deliciously.  I warmed to the occasion, and steadily drove myself in, riding him to the hilt.

The trees loomed closer below. “Keep riding me!” He cried, and magic coursed through his back.  Wings sprouted between me and his shoulders, but he maintained most of his human form and did not dislodge me.  Our descent slowed to a glide, and as the wind died down around us as our cries of pleasure seemed to grow louder.  I drew out to just the point, and rocked the tip slowly, making Llwellyn squirm. Then I pushed in, and his bottom eagerly swallowed me in its depths.

As we approached the tree line I slowly unsheathed then resheathed, closing my eyes so I did not see the dizzying landscape zoom by.  Llwellyn let out a particularly musical note, back flapping his wings and slamming my body to his. He skewered himself on me deeply, and thus we alighted.

“Winged Gods! Fuck me, Lyles,” Llwellyn cried, bending on hands and knees with me still locked inside him.  I scrambled till I found my footing, then rode him hard, my thighs slapping his buttocks with the powerful thrusts.  “Yes! Yesss,” he cried out, and soon my hoarse tenor joined his baritone.

We writhed, the contortions of our frames bringing pleasures to our bodies, and spent ourselves silly on the pine needles.

I collapsed on his back and he pulled my arms around him, cradling my hands against his chest and resting his cheek against my bicep.  He was laughing, rocking us gently till both our tremors stopped and we lay exhausted against each other.

“I think… that I have found a crazy elf.”  He spoke with his mouth pressed into my hair.

“I… I would never… well, I don’t  _ think _ I would ever do anything so stupid if I were awake,” I replied.  “But you make me do crazy things.”

“Well, that is the fun thing about dreams,” he replied.  “I don’t think I could have done that neat trick with shifting just my wings, but I’ve been trying to control my transformations better since I’ve been seeing you.”

“This is  _ awesome _ .”  My grin split my face.  “I have heard of cognizant dreaming, but had never been able to achieve it before.  Can we go anywhere I want?”

“Of course.  It is your dream.”

“Really??”

And, suddenly, we were in the air again, and I was sheathed in his body.

“I thought you wouldn’t want to return to the sky,” he commented beneath me.

“Are you kidding?  This is amazing!” I crowed.  

“This is more or less draconic love making,” he added, peering down at the landscape below.  His hands were on my shoulders, his legs locked behind me, and his torso stretched beautifully before.

I looked down, at myself buried in his hole and his swollen penis laying across his belly. “What’s less about it?” I asked, terrified of the prospect of confirming that dragons did this all the time, and puzzled at how we were talking while my cock was in his arse.  

He fitted a large hand around my cheek and his smile was warm enough to light a fire.  “You aren’t a dragon,” he murmured.

I turned my head to kiss the palm of his hand.  “How is it, then? With a dragon.”

He sighed, and I felt a flutter of emotion that he wasn’t elated by the thought.  Was copulating as a dragon something more like work, like the elven maids were for me?

“There is a lot of flying high and falling, like we’ve done.  Dragon women are bigger than men, so sometimes, on a good warm day, a big lady can carry both and glide for hours.  But it’s been decades since I was small, and I don’t enjoy carrying on with young women.”

So… he had copulated?  With older women? And maybe younger ones, too?

Why did I feel so embarrassed about asking?  It wasn’t like I  _ hadn’t  _ carried on with a few ladies.

“What are you feeling?” His warm voice cut through my thoughts, and when I refocused I found him peering at me curiously.  “I’m not sure what emotions I see on your face, and your silence leaves me guessing.”

“Ah,” I said.  My mind whirled, both trying to untangle my emotions and decide what I wanted to tell him.  I found myself wanting to distract and avoid, which was never a good sign. I went for honest, but not forthcoming.  “I am unsure what to tell you.”

He enveloped me in his arms.  “I would love to hear anything you share with me, but feel free to keep your elven secrets.  I want to know all about you, but I want you to be comfortable and near more.”

The light flashed and suddenly we were in my bed at Godwell Academy, tangled in my sheets.  I wrapped myself around him like a sea creature, kissing his face and ears and throat.

“Where’s this?” he asked, prying his head away from my clinging affections in order to look around.

“My dorm room,” I replied, my chest tight.  “It feels so much better with you here in it.”

“It’s tiny,” he criticized.  “Fit more for a hermit than a Prince.”

“Then  you must see this,” I rejoined, and we materialized in my childhood bedroom, made entirely of lofty windows, spirling heartwood, and gauzy curtains.  I felt awkward here, the space where I had spent my childhood and lonesome adolescence. This place was devoid of love, bereft of satisfying memory-- all my juvenility had been carried out in the forests or the library.

“I wouldn’t mind messing this up a bit,” Llwellyn remarked, gazing around the tidy bedroom.  “This could be a pleasant home.”

I gazed around the room thoughtfully, imagining how Llwellyn’s form would warm the place.

“We could build a platform out here, where I could alight among the trees,” he said, striding towards the largest window and gazing out at the valley.

“I… we would have to work to make pleasant memories in this place,” I confessed with sudden heartache.  “I wouldn’t mind absolving my adolescence…”

Llwellyn turned back towards me, sweet concern filling his eyes.

“We do not need to tarry in a place of gloom,” he soothed.  “Here, let me show you my sanctuary.”

He took my hand, and the curtains and whorls dissolved, and in their place formed an esoteric canyon.  Runes were carved into the walls, interspersed with frescoes of dragons interacting with themselves and different nations.  Usually, if there were quick mortals, the frescoes depicted dragons as saviors: bringing fire to the two-legged, saving them from floods. More often there were depictions of dragons, doing… dragon-y things. Innumerable grottos lined the walls, their floors bellied out from years of foot use.  Above, crystals of all colors jutted from the walls, refracting the light into rainbows on the stone. The vision took my breath away, and I stumbled into Llwellyn’s side.

“This is our nursery, our  _ adula _ , our place of love.”

Intense, erotic images of dragons twisted in the throes of love wavered in and out of my vision, followed by a montage of listless, encumbered females comforted by their mates while they waited for the laying, then the calmness of brooding a nest, and the joyous wonder of hatching.  I knew it was a glimmer of draconic paradise, and felt like an interloper. I glanced shyly at Llwellyn, observing the pride and pleasure he derived from this setting, and felt out of my depth.

Llwellyn swept me up in his arms, and suddenly we were in flight, soaring over mountain ranges fringed with gold.  I couldn’t shake the images of the nursery and the love-making, and I caught myself wondering if Llwellyn had participated in draconic parentage.  It was a strangely lonely thought, wondering if my lover was a father. My stomach contracted painfully at the thought, and I dared not ask. 

We slowly circled, and the beauty of the mountains distracted me.  The grasses were all dried to gold, and shrubs and bushes provided contracts of dark green and sage.  The bones of the mountains protruded white and black. We were circling over a pit, a natural bowl in the rock that was further shaped and carved-- and I realized it was an ampitheatre.  The mountains curled around us, forming a back wall to the theatre, and there was space enough for hundreds of dragons.

“This- this is my favorite place,” he sang, and his voice echoed off the mountains for miles.  “And let me show you why.”

Llwellyn opened his throat, and his draconic opera filled the valley.  He was able to harmonize with himself, building layers of echoing chords, the bass of his voice making the very stones rumble.  I felt the melody through my body, the song becoming a physical experience. I wanted to touch Llwellyn, to bring him back to the mortal world, but felt too overawed by the heavenly creature to approach.  Tears sparked in my eyes, my joints went loose, and I stumbled and sat upon the stones.

Llwellyn turned his head towards me and the music slowly simmered into silence, the stones carrying the echo far longer than I thought would be possible.

“Lyles, my name is Llywleoch’grelwn,” he said. (The lettering is my attempt to capture the consonants and vowels vocalizable by elven vocal chords-- his full name contained several more consonants and vowels unspeakable by elven throats).  He shifted into his human form and knelt before me. “And I would like to thank you for being such a gift.”


End file.
